Cocky
by Stossle
Summary: Ianto's first day at Torchwood III.  Ianto will do anything to please his new boss and keep his new job.  But he might not be ready for what that will involve.  Contains smut and angst.  Read if you dare.  Jack/Ianto.  Ianto POV then same story Jack POV.
1. Ch1: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

_**Timeline:**__ Ianto's first day working for Torchwood III._

_**Warning:**__ This story has sex, smut, and slash and no cuddly bunnies so if you don't like don't read. If you do like, I hope you enjoy. It's my first pure smut fic. Mum would be so proud._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Torchwood or any of its characters. Just borrow them occasionally to have a little play. Hope I don't break them._

* * *

"Great coffee Ianto," he says and I glow with pleasure, pleasure at his pleasure.

"Anything else sir?"

"What are you offering?" he says and a grin lights up his face.

"I'm at your disposal sir," I say, anything he wants.

"Is that a proposition?" I feel the heat rise in my face. He's being making little comments all day, but this is the most blatant. I'm not sure how to react. I think light-hearted is best.

"That's not what I had in mind when I said I could do anything."

"Didn't you Ianto?" he says and he's not smiling now. "I think that's what you had in mind last night when you were on top of me."

"Don't get cocky sir. I was saving you from the pterodactyl." I keep my tone cool but my cheeks feel hot.

"I wasn't the one being cocky last night," he says and the grin is back.

"I'm not sure what you're saying." But I think I do. I thought I moved away quickly enough. I didn't think he felt me. But it was unexpected. I wasn't prepared for _that_ to happen.

"Not that I'm complaining." And he's up against me. Pushing against me. "See, not the one who's cocky," he says as my body betrays me again.

He smiles against my face and I feel his teeth graze my cheek. And his hand keeps pushing and the tightness coils. I'm breathing heavily, like I've been running, and I want to run. Want to be anywhere but here, and here is where I want to be.

I consider my options, but there's only one. I need this job. I move my hand and I'm not the only one who's cocky.

"I knew you couldn't resist me. Can't believe it's taken you a whole day." Hot breath in my ear. As if I had a choice.

Against my hand, I feel his hardness. Foreign yet familiar. I can do this. I've got one too. I know what to do with it. It's only a penis after all. So I flick open the button and unzip his fly.

"Gunning for a promotion already." he says "And only your first day."

Shut up I think. I can't do this if you keep talking. And although my stomach twists, I kiss him. Full on the mouth. I kiss him and I betray her.

It's easier than I think. Not that different. Actually quite good. He pushes against my crotch in time to the thrusts of his tongue and I feel the zip press into my hardness. I didn't want to, didn't think I would, but I groan into his mouth and push back against him. It's not that difficult after all, and I reach down and free him from his constraints. He even sighs.

I put my hand on it. Grip it like a hammer, but I'm not really sure what to do. It feels hot and big. And this is too big for me and I'm not sure if I can do it. Whatever _it_ involves.

He moves his mouth away from mine and I pine at the loss. "Come on Ianto. It's a bit late to be a tease," he says. He looks a bit annoyed.

"I wasn't," I say and I experimentally squeeze and pull. It feels awkward and rough and I have no rhythm.

"Let me show you." he says, voice soft. He puts his hand over mine and we're rubbing together. Feeling his rough fingers squeezing around mine. Feeling his cock throb back in response. He's looking down watching what we're doing. A little smile on his lips. He moves my palm over his tip and there's wetness. I can almost smell the sea.

And we're rubbing harder and faster and little groans are coming from his mouth. Deep noises. Too deep. Not what I'm used to. And I watch too. Watch his hand over mine. Watch what I'm doing. Watch his face; see how his tongue is poking out of his open mouth, just softly, just a bit. I want to kiss him again, but I don't want to upset this, don't what to stop this. And he's silky and hard, and harder still, and it throbs. I throb in response, but he's not touching me anymore. We're both just focusing on him. Watching that strange growing animal. Watching what we can make it do.

Then he stops my hand and pulls it away. Why?

He pulls his trousers down and slips them off. I find myself looking at his legs. Looking at those muscles. Like I've never seen a man's legs before. I've certainly not felt this way about a man's legs before. Because I'm fascinated with the curve of muscle. I don't know why I want to touch. Feel the course hairs on his thighs.

And I'm so distracted that I don't notice at first that he's taken my hand until I feel the cold. I start at the sensation. Cold gel coating my hand and his, slimy fingers pushing together.

"You're going to like this." he says and turns around leaning one arm against the wall, round buttocks poking out beneath his shirt.

He reaches back and takes my hand. It's shaking. "Steady now." he says and pushes my hand between his downy cheeks.

The urge to pull away is strong and I have to force myself to follow his lead. Feel his fingers guiding mine, feel that wrinkled opening. When he groans I almost scream.

"That's right," he says and he pushes my finger in. His finger and mine into the tight warmth. "Yes Ianto, that's right." he says again. He twitches against my hand and he pushes me in further.

My throat feels tight and I want to pull away. I didn't sign up for this. Then I think of her and I allow him to guide a second finger inside.

I look at our hands. I'm fascinated, disgusted and purely horny. He curls my fingers forwards and moans. "That's the spot," he says thrusting against my fingers "Remember that spot."

Then he pulls me out, pushes his arse towards me and I realise what he wants me to do. "While I'm ready Ianto. Cover yourself with this," he says handing me a tube.

He's only touched me once, an age ago, but I'm so hard that I moan when I set the bird free.

I follow his instructions and he lines me up against him. I'm standing, straining, still. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be this. There must be another way. But he pushes back and I'm not given the choice.

And god it's so hot and so tight and I'm thrilled. I push forward in a rush, release the animal. "Slowly." he says, but I can't and I'm thrusting and pushing, wildly, erratically. He grunts and arches forwards.

"Control Ianto." he says "Remember the spot." He reaches back around my ass and he's guiding me, like he guided my hand on his dick, in his hole. Guiding the child into adulthood.

And it's so good, and so hot, and so tight. I get the rhythm, feel his beat, sing his song, in and out, and out and in. Moaning, groaning, panting. It's so male, so raw, muscles against muscles.

He looks back and grins at me. "Having fun yet? Do you like your special duties? Like the office perks?" And I close my eyes, and close my ears, and pump and thrust.

I'm coiling, unravelling, nearing. Like an oncoming train and it's not going to stop. Rattling down the tracks, relentless, inevitable, inescapable.

But sensation isn't over as he pulls my hand around him and against his dick, rubbing and squeezing in time to the music. I feel him throb and burst and he pulls tight around me. Tighter than I think is possible and I feel myself screaming and shooting, deep inside, hidden. Lights dance in my vision and I pull back and stagger to the floor.

I see my cum leak from his hole, before he turns around and covers those lovely legs with his trousers.

He is grinning and panting, looking at me with those cool blue eyes. He holds out a hand and pulls me to my feet.

"Well done." he says placing me back in my trousers and closing my fly. I'm dazed and bewildered, and calmer than I've been for months.

"We'll do this again," he says and he's cocky and sure, and I know I've got no choice. I'm just not sure anymore if it's because I need the job or him.


	2. Ch2: Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 2**

_Authors Note: Couldn't help myself. I rewote the first chapter in Jack's POV._

* * *

I take a sip, and it's bitter and sweet, and warm on my tongue and I know I've made the right choice. "Great coffee Ianto."

"Anything else sir?" And so eager to please. Not like the others. I mean Tosh tries, but she's so into her machines, and Owen and Susie, pah. They seem to forget I'm the one in charge. But it's my fault, because I keep forgetting and indulge them like spoilt children. Let them get away with murder.

But this one seems to know who's boss. I should enjoy it while it lasts.

"What are you offering?"

Puppy blue eyes look up at mine. "I'm at your disposal sir."

He's making it too easy. "Is that a proposition?"

I've made him blush. That's good. I've been trying all day for a reaction. But everything I've said he's deflected like a pro. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, before shooting it back, "That's not what I had in mind when I said I could do anything."

Ah. I was wondering when he'd bring last night into it. Because I know what I felt, and today it's all yes sir, no sir and where do you keep the bin liners sir. "Didn't you Ianto? I think that's what you had in mind last night when you were on top of me."

Back in his court now and his feeling the strain. I think he even flinched. But he picks it up and hits it back, "Don't get cocky sir. I was saving you from the pterodactyl."

No Ianto, way too easy. But I'm cracking the façade, so I slam it back, "I wasn't the one being cocky last night."

Oh, that's done it. His pale face is red, and I have an urge to tweak that white button nose. "I'm not sure what you're saying." he says.

Game, set, match. So I take my prize and say, "Not that I'm complaining. See, not the one who's cocky."

And even I'm surprised by how right I am, because up against him I can feel him so large and firm, and all we've done is talk.

I breathe him in and he smells of spice. I push and relish the moment, enjoying that still fully clothed he's teetering on the brink.

But he's still strangely placid. I'm sure I've read the right signals. I mean the lust is unmistakable, but it's not the first time I'm unintentionally poached one of the other team's players. But that first night. Well dressed can mean anything, but a studded belt? I can't be that out of date about fashions. Sure, the eighties was a confusing time, but I thought I'd worked it out again. There was a time when you could trust a skinny jean.

So I push and I stroke, and I use all my skill. And it's not long before I feel his hand on me, tentative then sure. I can't help but gloat, "I knew you couldn't resist me. Can't believe it's taken you a whole day."

And he's got it now because he's deft fingers are opening my fly. "Gunning for a promotion already," I say, "And only your first day."

And that works because he kisses me and I feel his skill. Tongue pressing and teasing, while he's setting me free.

But what's he doing now? He's just holding it. I'm doing all the work. I don't have time for this. When you have someone's dick in your hand, it's a bad manners to play hard to get.

"Come on Ianto," I say, "It's a bit late to be a tease."

Then I feel like shit, because his voice is so small when he replies, "I wasn't." And he tries, but he's so awkward, and I realise I can't trust the fashions of the naughties either.

"Let me show you," I say, before he's killed all my passion. I put my hand over his and show him how it's done. And god it's hot. Being the teacher. Showing him the moves. Making him touch me how I want to be touched. Seeing our hands intertwined on my cock. And I'm almost lost, but this isn't enough. I've more to teach.

So trousers off and grab the lube. He's like a child letting me coat his fingers, and I feel a moment of guilt, but I push that away. I can see the direction of his gaze. I know what he wants, even if he doesn't.

"You're going to like this," I say facing my back to him and leaning against the wall. I reach back and take his hand.

I'm glad I've chosen this way round because his hand is shaking and I don't think he could have taken the strain.

"Steady now," I say and I try to do the same as I push him into the abyss. "Oh." I was trying to stay calm but even the touch of his finger on my entrance has me hyperaware. I think I'm enjoying being a teacher a bit too much. I guide his finger in with mine. Two fingers to start and the burn is there, but it eases quickly and I encourage another.

I almost jump as I lead him to my core. "That's the spot," I say, "Remember that spot." Please boy, remember that spot.

I'm feeling the heat rising. I'm trying to be patient, but I just want him inside. I remove his fingers and hand him the lube. I tell him what to do and guide him to the start line. But he doesn't move. Oh god Ianto, quick, I think, before you're good work fades. I never was very patient. I thrust myself backwards and hear him yelp.

I try to remember my first time but it's too long ago.

Then he pushes in, thrusts and pumps. He's big and too quick. I want to let him but it's burning my desire away. "Slowly", I say, but he's beyond hearing. His balls slap against my arse and I think I've never been so full.

Then I remember I'm the teacher. So I reach back, hold him tight and show him the way. "Control Ianto," I say, "Remember the spot."

Thank god he's a good learner. He's found it and he's pressing it. Again and again. Steady and sure. I'm on to a winner here.

I look back at his face and he's so serious, I can't help but tease. But he's not having any of it. He closes his eyes, thrusts again and I lose the ability to do anything but pull his hand to my cock and stay on my feet. I'm so full and he's so precise. Not missing a beat. I see white fire. I hope he's with me, I hope my orgasm is bringing him home. It is. I feel that glorious jet of warmth inside me and he's screaming so loud I think the people will hear him on the street.

I'm impressed. He's on the ground. I've actually knocked him down with desire. Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself. But he's just a boy, so I redress myself, help him up and redress him.

"Well done," I say, "We'll do this again."


	3. Ch3: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 3**

_A bit more fun. Ianto's POV._

* * *

I have that dirty achy feeling, deep in my throat and down to my stomach, like when you've slept with the wrong person or indulged in too much porn. Gritty and grotty. I've washed and washed but I can still feel him around my fingers, around my cock.

I was scared to touch her with my dirty hand. Scared I'd contaminate her flawless skin.

But there was healing to be done and medications to administer. She asked me how the day went.

"Fine." I said. Fine and dandy.

"Did you make a good impression on the boss?" she asked and I almost choked.

I've been trying to avoid being alone with him all day. He's been flirty and chatty, and not at all bothered. He hasn't even mentioned it and I'm so glad.

But just after lunch, he leaned over the autopsy table to look at something Owen was dissecting. And his arse jutted out, and I was back there, last night, inside him, screaming my liberation. Then I realised he was looking at me, and smiling.

So now, I'm definitely hiding. I've found the archives and I'm doing what I do best. Just like back there. If there is one thing I know how to do, it's filing.

And for the most part, I've been able to not think of him. Because I've other memories to contend with here. The last day I handled objects like these the metal men came and took everything away.

"Making some headway?" Lost in the beat of footsteps, I'm startled to see how close he is. Leaning against the desk. Teeth gleaming. I'm sure he's had work.

"Getting there, sir." I say. With me sitting and him standing, my face is too near his crotch, and I feel my eyes drawn. But I don't want that. I can't do that again.

So I try to stand, but he pushes me down. "No, don't get up." And now he's even closer and I can smell him. That musky scent. And it doesn't smell dirty, it smells good, delicious, moorish.

But he isn't paying any attention. He's poking around the table, looking at my work. "Looks like a bit of a mess," he says.

"It's going to look worse before it looks better. It's in a pretty bad state," I say then realise what I've said. "Sorry," I say.

With his easy charm, he waves away my faux pas. "That's ok. I'm not very good at this side of things. Prefer the action. Not so good at cleaning up afterwards."

And I'm surprised because he's not flirting, but I still can't help but look at his groin. I'm like a teenager. Horny and confused. I've never felt it this strong, and never about a man.

It's one thing not to refuse him, and another thing to initiate. But I can't control myself and I reach out and touch.

"Ianto." he says looking down at my hand, "That could be considered sexual harassment." But I'm not really listening. His smell is a drug and I just want to taste.

I open his fly and reach inside for the prize. I don't really know what to do, but it's been done to me, so I'll figure it out.

He might have sounded surprised but he's already responding. I lean forward, stick out my tongue and taste the sweet tip. I twist with pleasure and I'm back for another taste. My nervous system is alive, sending signals directly from my taste buds to my groin. I lean in further and take the tip into my mouth.

His hand is in my hair and I can feel him moulding, pulling it. And in my mouth, he grows, silky and sweet.

The need in me is great, but it's not like what I've felt before. Normally this burning is selfish, a journey to release. But with him in my mouth, I feel my gratification subordinated to him. Ensuring his pleasure my only purpose.

With this drive inside, insecurities wash away. I take him deeper in my mouth while running my tongue down the underside. My hands are on his hips, pushing down his trousers, exposing him completely.

I'm jerking my head backwards and forwards, just how I like it. My mouth is full, but I just want more. I reach under my chin to cup his balls and feel the pressure build.

Soft moans pour down on me, justifying my movements, pushing me on. I hold his bottom and feel his tension. Twitches, holding himself back.

But my mouth is full and I'm only holding half. I want him to have more. Seeking hands on the base only show my lack. I press my tongue into his tip and taste the salt. It's waiting for me.

I squeeze the base and he jerks towards me. He hits the back of my throat and I have to hold the impulse to gag.

Then I hear him. Soothing words. Advice from my teacher. "It will be easier if you get down on your knees. That's right. You can use your hands. You don't have to take it all in. Oh Ianto."

Because in this position, I _can_ take more. And I suck and pull, and hear him moan.

And he keeps talking. I take his advice. "Hollow your cheeks, suck it in, use your tongue."

I feel the tension building. Tense thighs, tense arse, tense cock.

And the smell. So wonderful. Caressing my senses. Pulling me tight.

He's groaning and I feel myself groan in response, and it only makes him groan more.

"Oh god Ianto. That's it. That's right. So good."

Each word eggs me on. Makes me want to do more. Pleasure at his pleasure. Throbbing with his throbs. Building mounting, spiralling, in and out, and round and round. He's making little jerks towards me and I relax my throat and take as much as I can.

"Holly mother of all things sweet. You sure you haven't done this before? Oh my god. That's it. Just like that Ianto."

Hearing my name, I suck harder and quicker. And then I feel it build and burst. Hitting the back of my throat. Hot, smooth, sweet, salty, and oh so nice. Tickling down my throat. Making me swallow. Absorbing him into me. Emulating his joy.

I feel the tension leave his body and it's over. He combs my hair back and lifts me to my feet.

"Thank you." he says and kisses my mouth. And tastes so sweet.


	4. Ch4: Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 4**

_Jack POV_

_

* * *

_

I'm lost but I'm playing it cool. Last night with Ianto. Stuck in my mind, a loop of pleasure. Sexy teacher, pliant pupil. Steaming.

But there's this little niggle. A slight worry. Like I've done something wrong. Even though it felt so right. Because he left quickly afterwards. Eyes on the ground, hands folded across his body, little rabbit scurrying away.

One hundred years and I still forget. Forget that sex isn't like eating, like shitting, like breathing. Muddied with guilt. Glorified and vilified.

But I know he wanted it. It was his choice. Know he wants it. See his looks.

But I'm playing it cool. Flirtation without fulfilment. Fun in the twenty-first century.

Playing it cool, but still checking the CCTV to see where he's gone. Archives. Sexy, remote. No Jack. Dusty, dirty. Hmmm. Ianto covered in dust. Sexy suit spoiled. I won't go down then. Wonder if he will?

So here is me, not climbing the stairs, not walking down the corridor, not opening the door.

He doesn't even notice when I walk in. The place is a mess. One hundred and fifty years of mess. And I think he's made it worse.

"Making some headway?" I ask and I'm rewarded with his startled blue eyes. Rabbit in the headlight. Calm Jack, calm.

"Getting there, sir." he says and tries to get up.

"No, don't get up." I feel the warmth of his shoulder as I push him back in his chair. Safer down there I think. I can't reach your lips.

Instead, I look at the objects on the table. Memories of a life past. Memory of past deaths. "Looks like a bit of a mess." Life and death generally is.

"It's going to look worse before it looks better. It's in a pretty bad state." Then sweet eyes open in apology. "Sorry." he says. He couldn't be cuter.

"That's ok. I'm not very good at this side of things. Prefer the action. Not so good at cleaning up afterwards." I hope that didn't come out as a line. I'm trying very hard.

Then he touches me and it becomes obvious how hard I really am. "Ianto." I didn't expect that. But I recover quickly. "That could be considered sexual harassment." I say with a smirk.

But clever little rabbit isn't listening. He's burrowing in, pawing me out. A tongue pokes out of his serious face and I've just been touched with ice and fire.

So keen, so determined, licking, tasting, taking me in. Hotter and harder, so delicate, so shy. He's done what I thought was impossible, he's stolen my voice.

So I watch. Watch him expose me. Watch him enclose me. Awkward touches drawing me on.

But I'm not silent. Each thrust of his mouth pulls the noise from me. Have to hold back from fucking his mouth and spoiling the game.

His hand squeezes the base of my cock and I almost loose the battle. Only a small jerk but I see him quiver. He's doing his best but it's not enough. But I'm the teacher now, so I tell him true.

"It will be easier if you get down on your knees." Good boy, listen to master. "That's right." He can take more now. "You can use your hands." Gratifyingly responsive. "You don't have to take it all in." Down the gullet it goes.

Every little word met with response. Earnestly following instructions. Sweet face. Dirty mouth.

And it's coming and building and I need more pressure, more. "Hollow your cheeks, suck it in, use your tongue." Fondle my balls, swallow my cum.

And then I feel a rumble. I didn't teach him that. Groaning around my cock. Vibrating me to bliss.

So teacher is losing his eloquence. "Oh god Ianto. That's it. That's right. So good." Short sentences, one syllable.

I don't know if I can hold it. I'm moving. Not too much, keep it back. "Holly mother of all things sweet." He's taking it. Taking it in. Relaxing his throat. Untaught. "You sure you haven't done this before?" Can you do it again? "Oh my god." His throat convulses on my cock. "That's it. Just like that Ianto." My clever, clever boy.

But he's getting even cleverer and even quicker. Pulling and sucking, and stealing my seed. A moment of tension that I've given him too much. Because it's pouring out of me. Pouring into him. But he takes it all, swallows my soul.

And I'm gone, gone, gone. Lost in him. Released.

It's been a long time since someone's cared.

"Thank you," I say. I pull him to me, kiss him, taste our connection.

* * *

_And I really didn't expect it to go in that direction. Sometimes these characters just take off on their own, like disobedient children. I must be getting tired and sentimental. Thanks for reading._


	5. Ch5: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 5**

_Ianto POV_

_Authors Note: Took me a while to get back to this one. I hope you enjoy._

* * *

I've gone further than I ever thought I could. Dived down the rabbit hole. Discovered Wonderland. Weeks of focusing all my attention on her, weeks of keeping her alive. Now my attention is slipping, because with him I don't need to be in control. He leads me and guides me, and I'm allowed to follow, submit, be. Since the archives, he keeps smiling, looking up from his work and grinning, eyes following me. I like it. Preening in his attention, semi-hard and waiting for more instructions.

He's obviously waiting to give more, because he stands up and commands the others to leave. King of Torchwood, dismissing his subjects. I watch, unobserved in the background, as they go. It's amazing how quickly I've become invisible. But Jack sees me. "You've got no reason to rush off, do you?" he asks.

I've got every reason; dried blood, phlegm and piss. "No, no reason."

"Good," and he's smiling again, always smiling. "Do you want a scotch?"

"No."

"A beer?"

"No thank you sir."

"What do you want?"

"I'm not sure yet, but I was hoping you'd show me," the innuendo comes so easily, too easily. I should go.

"Ah," he says grinning again, "Perhaps I will Ianto." And I'm not going anywhere because he has deleted the space between us and I can see that smile up close. His sweet breath on my cheek. I wonder what it will feel like on the rest of my body. Male breath, but that seems insignificant, Jack's breath, that is what matters. "What would you like to learn?"

"Last night, I want you to do that to me." I've said it and now I just need to bend over, submit. Let him fuck it all away.

"Are you sure?" he says, crystal stare piercing me.

'Yes, I'm fucking sure', I want to scream. But he doesn't look away and I begin to doubt my resolve.

"You need to be ready, I don't want to hurt you," he says. And then I know the answer and it sickens me. A foreign feeling. But with seeds in the past, smart mouth asking for punishment. Cause I want him to hurt me. I want to feel pleasure and pain and not think. Can he do that for me?

"Please, sir." show him I'm willing to beg. Show him I need him.

And he takes my hand and leads me towards his office. Over his desk? The image pulls me tight. But he shows me the rabbit hole and I follow him down.

A portal, a ladder, a bunker under the floor, a small bed. The bed. The bed where everything changes. Tonight. "You sleep here?" I ask.

"Sometimes," he says and pulls me to him. Our lips connect messy and wet. Hard bodies, soft lips. At last. He pushes me to the bed and follows me down, ripping at my clothes. I pull back a little, surprised by his speed, "Come on," he says, unbuckling my belt.

"You don't muck around," I say helping him slide my pants over my hips.

"Foreplay is for women. I can touch you all night and you're not going to get wet. And," he says grinning appreciatively at my dick, "You look to be hard enough already." He gives it a little tug, making me convulse into his hand.

I think about it for a moment, remembering the cold gel from last night. And I grin back. No holding back, just physical need. Matched and met. Perfect. I pull at his clothes, unwrapping my gift.

Moments of shirts, pants, shoes and socks, then they're gone, and slick skin connects. Feel the rough hair and rippling muscles of his legs and arms. Feel the smooth tight skin of his chest. He rolls me over and pulls my waist up so I'm kneeling, legs slightly apart, my head on the bed. "That is one gorgeous bottom," he says. "Bottom, you are going to like this," and I feel his breath on my arse. His hands pull the cheeks apart and I almost buck in anticipation.

And then I do buck, away and then back. Feeling moisture and friction. Fucking hell, his tongue is in my arse. He is licking my arse. Holly shit. I'm disgusted and delighted, and so glad I cleaned myself before. There is a warm rolling pleasure filling my stomach and I'm groaning and grunting, all composure gone. When he reaches around to stroke my tight cock I almost shoot my load and end it before it's started. "Steady," he says hand on my hip. "There's more to come." So don't come. Ok teacher.

Another feeling. Fingers this time, rubbing cold gel around my hole. Cooling the heat but only for a moment. Pushing in. One finger first and I feel myself contract around it, tight. If that's one finger, how can I fit his dick? He adds another and I feel burning.

Suddenly I'm scared and I don't think I can do this. But he pushes his fingers forward and pleasure bolts up my back and down through my cock. "Fuck, what was that?"

"That is why we do this Ianto," he says and starts to push a third finger in. I wiggle to allow him access. Press there, press there, press there. Opening, stretching, and wanting more. And then he pulls his fingers out.

"Roll over," he says. I look back questioning. I thought he was going to fuck me. I need him to fuck me. "We can do it with you on your back." Oh. I didn't know that. I thought with men that it was all animalistic, back to front and biting pillows. How can I disappear when he can see my face?

But there is something beautiful and mesmerising about seeing him rear up over me. See his glistening cock. Strengthen the fear and wanting with a picture of what is to come. He pushes my legs to my chest and pushes them apart, inserting his body in between. In this foetal position, I feel safe and protected. He kisses me and I feel the pressure below. Feel him pushing into me as my tongue pushes into his mouth.

Tears spring to my eyes, but there is this wonderful fullness to it, as he slowly slides further in and then stops. Why? Fuck me now Jack. I want it hard, want to be impaled, want it in and out and feel it, feel him. Pain and pleasure, none of this sweetness, I don't want sweetness. But he stays still. So even though I didn't want to, I try to take control. Push up and feel the pain, but he holds my hips. "Gently does it Ianto. Let yourself adjust. It won't take long." And he waits, tenderly pulsing forward, opening me until there is no more pain. He thrusts into that spot again and I think I might be happy with just the pleasure.

"I'm ready now, sir," I say and I'm telling the truth. A moment more and he pulls out and pushes back with more strength, sending bolts of pleasure up my back. Out and in again full and strong. "Yes Jack, more." And I meet him thrust for thrust.

And I know what it is all about. Love the submission. Love the feel of him inside me. It is the most intimate and intense thing I have ever felt and I don't want it to end. But my cock is swelling and pulsing, caressed by the friction of our stomachs slapping together. I long to touch it but I don't want it to be over. Then Jack takes charge, thrusting inside, pulling outside, sucking my mouth. Every part of him an instrument of pleasure. And a pounding swelling builds up in my stomach sending shivers and shudders across my whole body. And I'm pulsing and coming and I feel him even more intensely, clamping around him. Holding him tight, within and without. And then the pulsing contracts to one point. Contracts to his penis, shooting warm jets of liquid inside me, becoming part of me. One word pulled from my groaning lips. One word, "Jack."

We lie entwined for a few minutes afterwards, Jack heavy on my tingling body, his softening cock retreating from me. He rolls off and I feel empty. But coherency returns and I pull away from his clinging arms. Stretch my crumpled clothes over my clammy skin.

"You're going," he says stating the obvious, "Are you ok?"

"Fine, thank you sir. We must do it again," I say and climb into the light. Escape from Wonderland.

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_If you liked please review. The more reviews I get the more likely I am to write Jack's POV._


	6. Ch6: Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 6**

_Jack's POV. Thank you to those who have reviewed. I really appreciate it._

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I'm feeling that old familiar feeling, the one I try so hard not to feel, fluttering in my chest. Even though I know how it ends, I never learn, just keep smiling and looking at him. Enjoying the moment. He moves silently though the hub, face impassive. But he has walked past my office more times than is strictly necessary and keeps looking up at me with those deep blue eyes.

Below the desk my legs jiggle like jack hammers and I've read the same line on this report three times. "Ok team, home time," I say standing up.

They look up at me in surprise, it's not even five. Susie and Owen shrug and start to pack up, but Tosh protests, "I'm right in the middle of working out what this artefact is. I think it might be some kind of musical instrument." For all I care, it could be an instrument for making women's underwear jump one metre to the left.

"Can it wait until tomorrow?"

"I suppose so."

"Then go."

Six legs trot through the cog door and leave. Two legs stay. I wonder what those legs look like under those black trousers. I wonder if he will be hairy or smooth. But I also wonder what he thinks about globalisation and league tables and what he does in his spare time. Does he have friends, did he get on with his father, does he want children?

He is still, but his eyes stare at me intensely. "You've got no reason to rush off, do you?" I ask.

"No, no reason."

"Good." Good. I'm relived; I thought he might scurry off again. "Do you want a scotch?"

"No." Oh.

"A beer?"

"No thank you sir." Oh. I thought he was staying for me. Is he a workaholic like Tosh? Is it too much offering a drink? But we must be past that. Perhaps I should have asked him out to dinner. How can I have lived so long and be so bad at this? I'm fine until I really want someone.

"What do you want?" I ask.

"I'm not sure yet, but I was hoping you'd show me."

"Ah." Cheeky little minx, I want a date but he is young and randy and has just discovered a new form of pleasure. And he wants me to show him. "Perhaps I will Ianto." Chat can wait for after. Languorous words mixed with cuddles, kisses and glow.

I move in close. Smelling his scent, spicy aftershave, coffee on his breath, and underneath that crisp white shirt and clean-shaven face, a raw musky tang. I've smelt desire before. I know what I'm dealing with. "What would you like to learn?"

"Last night, I want you to do that to me."

"Are you sure?" I'm not sure. A big step for a first timer. It's intense having someone inside you, submitting totally to another person. We've only just met. Can he trust me that much? A shadow flicks across his face. "You need to be ready; I don't want to hurt you."

"Please, sir." Sir, this doesn't feel right, intimacy at a distance. I want to be close to him. But perhaps if we can't do it with words, we can do it with bodies. I take his hand and lead him down to my bunker.

He looks around, eyeing the bed, "You sleep here?" he asks.

"Sometimes," I reply feeling reticent. I haven't brought anyone here before. But Jack my boy; I say to myself with a twist of amusement, if he's going to let you in his hole, you should trust him with yours. So I pull him close and to my mouth, and show him what trust is all about.

Now I'm in my domain I know what I'm doing. I'm in control. I push him to the bed and work to remove his clothes as quickly as possible. He resists a little. "Come on," I say.

"You don't muck around," he says but still allows me to reveal those luscious legs. They are hairy. Muscular and well proportioned. Like that other appendage.

"Foreplay is for women. I can touch you all night and you're not going to get wet. And you look to be hard enough already." He certainly is; I'm going to be on my toes with this one. I can't resist giving it a little pull and watch his eyes squeeze in pleasure and then open in understanding. Now he gets it as he pulls at my clothes roughly. Brace pulled down over my shoulder with an audible twang. I pull off his shirt and see a skinny but muscular chest tapering down to thin hips. Black curls twist down over porcelain skin from chest to groin. Somehow, I didn't expect him to be hairy. Must be the boyish features.

And now we're naked, clasped together and feeling slick skin connect, muscles and bones beating my drum. I turn him over and pull him to me. "That is one gorgeous bottom," I can't help but say, rounded and pert. I have been looking at it for days now, wondering, but it is better than I thought. I just want to suckle those downy peaches, dive into their delights. "Bottom, you are going to like this," I say and plunge right in.

He got to taste me earlier and now I get to taste him. The musky tang I smelt before is stronger here, intoxicating. I can hear him grunting and swearing. Completely abandoned and pushing into my tongue, pushing onto my tongue. I reach around to feel how he is doing and feel his cock quiver. "Steady," I say, "There's more to come."

So responsive, so it's time to move on. I grab some lube and coat my fingers liberally. As slick as possible. My boy is going to enjoy this. I rub it around his tight rim and then squeeze some more into his hole, following with a finger. I feel his body tense and rub his lower back with my other hand. He has stretched slightly so I add another finger. Following as he jerks away. Pushing forward to show him what it's all about.

He cries out and his body ripples with pleasure. "Fuck, what was that?"

"That is why we do this Ianto," I say and push a third finger in. Enjoy his response as he tries to help. Enjoy his response as a red glow spreads over pale skin. And then it's enough. I pull my fingers out and take a moment to admire my handy work. Tight arse is now open and glistening. Begging. I want to take him like that, hard and fast, but it isn't about me.

"Roll over," I say and when he looks at me, "We can do it with you on your back." A common misconception. But male eyes like something to look at and why should I have all the fun. As he rolls over, I grab for the lube and coat myself.

I want to open him up as much as possible, so I push his legs up and out. Knees bent, to make him feel safe. I cover myself with more lube and push a bit more into his entrance, finishing the tube. Try to make this as pain free as possible. Make his first, his best. Eyes follow my movements, wide and innocent, despite what he is letting me do. I kiss him and taste his sweet breath. Use my skill with my mouth to relax him for what I'm doing below. Tip connecting and sliding in.

Tears come to those blue eyes and I feel him wince but his tongue continues to plunge into my mouth. I pause and then slide a bit further in. Inch by inch. Stop when I'm mostly in, he's not ready for it all. Waiting for the tension to go. But before it has, he bucks up towards me hissing and moaning.

"Gently does it Ianto. Let yourself adjust. It won't take long." Don't let me hurt you. I pulse slightly sliding a bit deeper. Waiting for him to uncoil. I give a little thrust where I know it will do the most good. He groans and I feel his muscles soften, outside and in.

"I'm ready now, sir." he says. Sir? Kinky. I hope he is just distracted. This isn't part of his job. But he's right; he is ready. I pull back and then push forward, sliding easily into his tight opening. Watch him writhe beneath me. And again, harder and further in.

"Yes Jack, more." Hearing my name shots a ripple of pleasure direct to my groin and I revel in its hot enclosure. Feeling for the first time. I have been so focused on his pleasure I forgot my own. But now it's released and I plunge in for more. He meets me. We are connected. Focus on that spot within him. Push him towards his release. Push towards mine.

I'm tangling and coiling, and thrusting with abandon and he's fine, fine, fine. Panting and straining. I grab his cock and pull it in time with my thrusts, push my mouth down on his and swallow his groans. Every part of us connected. Every atom alive. Because I may live forever, but I've been dead inside. And this boy, this silly, young, inexperienced, earnest boy has woke me up. Resurrected me.

And then he really shows me what being alive is like. Spurting in my hand, warm across my belly. And pulling me in tight. His arms around me holding me close. His hole around me, tense and taunt. Squeezing me, clenching me, drawing my cries. Squeezing me, clenching me, releasing my sighs.

He calls my name as I shoot into him. Calls my name and I know he's mine.

I don't want to move. I know I'm heavy but I want to stay there in his arms, forever. But only one of us has forever so I roll off. But still snuggle close. Clammy. Red retreating across pale skin. I did that.

And then he's getting up and pulling on his clothes. "You're going?" I say. Why? Did I hurt him? No, I know my power. Why? "Are you ok?"

"Fine, thank you sir. We must do it again," he says and climbs away from me. The sir is back. Why? Is this all I am? A fuck in the dark.

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_Please review. It will make me smile and keep writing. Any idea what they get up to next? I don't know yet._


	7. Ch7: Ianto and Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 7**

_Authors Note: Just a short chapter but with both points of view._

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_Ianto POV

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The water from the shower steams off my skin, like I'm super heated. Washing him away, but I can still tell where he's been, achy inside. Like he's still in there, pounding away. The thought has given me a strong erection. Pulling tight yet again. I reach down to take care of it, can't look after her like this.

And it's her I try to think of; her face, her breasts, the way her pelvic bone curved softly to those luscious depths. But dark skin turns pale, rolling images of dicks and bums and muscle and hair. Him in me and me in him. Nothing soft, just pounding. The smell of sweat and cum.

Hot beads of water pelt onto the skin of my cock as I move my hand. I imagine it's his tongue, his mouth, sucking me to completion. And the image is enough, much quicker than usual. I watch as it washes down the drain.

Today, he came in my mouth, came up my arse. He's inside me, worming though my internal organs. Part of me now. No going back.

I care for Lisa with much more ease than normal. Tending the metalisized skin doesn't horrify me. I don't hear her breath hissing through the respirator; just hear his breath hot in my ear. Hear the groans I caused.

I want to feel guilty, want to feel _something _when I look at her, when I touch her. But nothing. Just him. Humming in my thoughts.

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_Jack POV

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I take a shower after he leaves. Feeling kinda dirty. It didn't feel right, the way he left so quickly, the way he called me sir. Like the sex was part of the job description and his workday was over. Not all the water in the world can wash that away.

I never said, I mean I flirted, but I never said. The tears in his eyes when I first entered him. Wide eyes, serious face. And me so cocky, playing teacher, while he thinks I'm playing a very different game. I never said he had to. It was his choice. Did he know that?

I remember his girlfriend only died a month ago. Cybermen and Daleks, it wouldn't have been pretty. And I take advantage of that.

I thought he was eager and young, trying something new. But it's me eager and old, taking something new. Taking something sweet and sullying it. After my shower, I'll change the sheets.

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_Please review. I'm sorry it was so short. Not sure what to do with my boys next..._


	8. Ch8: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 8**

_Ianto POV. Sorry guys no actual sex in this one or the next. It was suggested to me that they have had three goes at it in only two days and perhaps Ianto needs a rest. But despite the lack of physical contact it is still Ianto and Jack's minds we are dealing with so they're not thinking about crochet. _

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When I was fifteen, I was sent to juvie for four weeks for nicking some clothes. I shared a room with this boy. He used to finish every sentence with hey and his eyes darted around like blowflies but we both liked James Bond, so we got along. One night he came to my bed, reached into my pyjamas and jerked me off. I'll never forget lying in the dark scared and entranced as I felt his hand working me. The next night he tried again. I punched him in the stomach and called him a poof. Even though we shared a room, I didn't look at or talk to him again.

Now I'm a poof. I should have known. The way that image would sometimes return to me in that moment before climax. Shooting into my girlfriend and imagining this boy with his hand on my dick. I'm sorry boy in the cell. I can't even remember your name. Just the look on your face when I punched you.

I think karma might be getting its own back because Jack won't look at me. I bring him a coffee first thing. Smiling like a kid, even though I wanted to play it cool. "Thank you Ianto, that's very thoughtful," he says but doesn't look up from the papers on his desk.

Later in the morning, I offer to clean his bunker. But I don't say it like that. I offer to clean his hole, my eyebrow raised. But all he does is nod and say thank you. I was hoping he'd offer to clean mine.

I take my time in the room that smells of Jack, hoping at that any minute he'll join me. Waiting for him, hard and trembling in the dim light. But nothing. I clamber out for cleaning supplies a few times. A few more times than necessary. Watching him, waiting for him to look up. I make a bit of noise as I clean, even grunting as I scrub under the bunk. I hope he'll come down now and take me like this, arse in the air and face in the dust. Hot, hard thrusts into my aching hole. Moments tick by and I pull myself out, trousers pulled tight against my erection.

When I climb back out, he isn't even at his desk. I have to move quickly to the bathroom to take care of myself before anyone sees. Jack comes out as I go in. I see his eyes widen a little as he notices the bulge in my trousers. I quirk my eye at him, but his face remains impassive. He manoeuvres around me and is gone. I can still smell him as I rub the tension away, alone in the cubicle, ignoring the tears prickling behind my eyes.

The place was a mess, but the sheets were clean. Perhaps I should take that as a sign. Jack who struggles to put on a clean shirt, changes his sheets after sex with me. Was it that bad? He seemed to like it.

Perhaps yesterday and the day before was it. He's bored already. And why not? I hardly knew what I was doing. Just following instructions. Must be so frustrating for someone as experienced as him. I should have made him wait. A phrase my mother used to use, "Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free", I thought that was for Rhi, not me. Ianto the slutty strumpet. One-night-stand and the boy won't ring.

When he was inside me, should I have pushed back harder, smoother, faster, slower? Did I come too soon, too slow? Am I too skinny? Is it my over large forehead, my knobbly nose? He's so good looking, probably used to perfection. I didn't think of that. I like nice clothes but I've never thought too much about my looks. Leave that bother for the girls. Should I have waxed?

He has to want me. It's part of the plan. It wasn't just a way in, it's a way to stay, a way to distract, a reason to be here when I shouldn't be. A little voice tinkles in my ear and I try to ignore it. But the little voice wants to be heard. Because it's not just for her. I want him. Want him more than anything before. Ache to have him touch me again. Did I convince myself it was necessary so I could have what I've always wanted? Justify cheating on my girlfriend by saying it's to save her.

I saw Jack at Torchwood I. He wouldn't have seen me but I saw him, coat flying behind him in the sunlight. He's been in my dreams ever since. An image of heroism and masculinity. I thought I wanted to be him. Turns out, I wanted to have him.

But for all that, I love her. She's the reason I haven't slept for a month, she's the reason I'm risking being shot in the head for treason, she's the reason I'm using my body as a weapon. I rub my hair back from my face and square my shoulders as I leave the bathroom. I'm going to make him want me. For her.

Stepping into the hub, I'm not really sure how to do this. Awkward enough with women, no idea how to pick up a man. I start by cleaning all the desks, leaning over them with my bum in his direction. I feel ridiculous. I reach up to wipe the cobwebs from the gantry, stretching out my body. I saw a girl do that on a movie. She touched her mouth a lot too. Can't bring myself to do that. I settle for drinking a coffee in his eye line, but just end up catching some froth on my upper lip. Clown.

Fuck it. It's not working. He's still barely looking at me. I could strip naked and he'd probably just ask me how I was going with the archiving. So that's where I go. To the archives. Get some real work done. See what I can find on cybernetics. And try not to wank again.

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_Please review and hang in there for Jack's reaction to Ianto cleaning his hole... Coming soon._


	9. Ch9: Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 9**

_Jack POV_

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I'm going to tell him straight up. Tell him that he doesn't need to sleep with me, tell him it's not part of the deal. He comes in bright and early, before anyone else has arrived. Giving me an opportunity to get my money's worth. Bile rises in my throat. His first time, with a letch like me. I should have realised.

He's smiling when he brings me coffee. And I can't say it. Can't say what I've worked out. Wipe that smile off his face by accusing him of being a whore. Can't do it. All I can do is leave him alone. Show him that it isn't required. Pretend I don't want to pull him to my lap a kiss that sweet smile.

I fail to focus on my reports all morning, can't help watching him as he cleans the hub, but I'm quick to look down before he sees me. A hundred plus years has given me sharp reflexes for avoiding glances. I'm so good at it that I don't notice him come into my office, not until his leaning against my desk, thin belly curving down to muscular legs.

"I want to clean your hole," he says. What? "Last night it was so dirty. It could do with a scrub." What? I can barely look up. Feel the tightening in my trousers. But I lift my head, long enough to see a fine finger pointing towards my bunker.

I nod and manage a "Thank you." He stays there for a moment. I can feel his hot stare on my head as white pages blur. I try to focus on some words, '..._seems to harness the life energy of the wearer. This has implications..._' And he's gone. Down my hole. Holy fuck Ianto, what are you trying to do to me?

So he's down there and I'm up here. Doing nothing but trying to think my erection away. Try not to let it quiver when I hear him moving around. I look away quickly when his head pops up. Watch his earnest face in the reflection in the glass as he looks at me before walking out. He's back again in a moment with buckets and cloths. _He's actually going to clean in there?_ Back down with a clatter. Back up for more supplies. Back down again. Up yet again. This time dragging a vacuum cleaner. _What's that for? _Vacuuming Jack, just vacuuming.

Noises come from below. Banging and rattling and sloshing, cleaning noises. At least I think they're cleaning noises. Then I hear him grunt and, for a moment, I forget which language I'm reading. Another grunt and I can't even remember which alphabet. Another and shit I'm out of my chair and... Out of the room. Out of the hub, into the bathroom and into a cubicle and jerking and jerking and, fucking hell Ianto, what have you done to me?

I wash my hand and open the door of the bathroom and there he is. Covered in dust and sweat, his cheeks flushed, deliciously dishevelled. _What was he doing down there?_ I cast my gaze downwards trying not to look. And fuck. He wasn't doing anything, just waiting, because there it is straining against his trousers. Like it wants to jump out and say hello. Sweet god, though I know you don't exist, at least not for me, give me strength. Training my features, showing no fear, as I edge past him, breathing in that reek of perspiration and desire. Fuck Ianto. I'm hard again.

I sit back on my chair. After a quiet word to little Jack I think I'm back in control when Ianto comes back from the bathroom. The dust is gone and he's pushed his sweat-slicked hair back, but his face has that telltale glow, the red tinge of his lips visible even from across the hub. I could have been there. I wasted that. For good reason I remind myself.

But the reason seems to fade from my mind as I watch him clean everyone's desks. Leaning over, the material of his trousers tight over that pert behind, that behind I sunk my tongue into last night. I could again. No Jack. And no, little Jack. But little Jack protests as Ianto gives a wiggle. He is wiggling his arse at me. Are these the actions of a man being forced by his boss? Reaching up to clean the cobwebs. Is he aware of how gorgeous he looks? Slim wrist twisting down his delicious body to a slim ankle. A glimpse of red sock. Fuck. It's just a sock.

Thinking about the sock distracts me for almost five minutes and when I look up again Ianto is drinking a coffee, just staring at me. A bit of froth lands on his lip, his eyes flutter and he wipes it off. I wonder how much of that froth you could make. Enough to coat a man? Licking frothy milk off to reveal milky Iantoey goodness. I look at the clock. It's ten past twelve. I've lasted a morning and that's enough, it's all a sane man can take. I'll give him the option. And if he doesn't rent rooms by the hour, I am going to shove little Jack into him so hard, he won't only forget his name, he'll forget what planet he's on. And then I might take him out for ice-cream.

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_I hope I wasn't too silly and but Jack and angst gets boring. Ianto should stick with the angst, he's very good at it. I was confused for a bit with Ianto horny and Jack angsty but I think this chapter has set the world to rights. Please review._


	10. Ch10: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 10**

_Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Thought I was running out of things to do with the boys but Jack came up with an idea._

_Ianto POV  
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"So Ianto, you've been trying to attract my attention." Jack is standing in the door to the archives, hands leaning on the frame above his head, light from the corridor casting his figure in a shadowy glow.

"Um." A little bubble of glee and I jump up from my seat. He noticed, he's here.

"There's no point denying it, you're about as subtle as a sledgehammer," he says coming to stand beside me.

"I was just cleaning." I knew I looked ridiculous, next time I'll send an email.

"Hmmm..." It rumbles through his chest and he is staring at me like he hasn't all morning. Staring at me and I feel my chest flipping like it shouldn't. He runs a thumb along my jaw line. Gently. I'm not here for that, just sex; it's not cheating if it's just sex. But feels like cheating; giving him what I can no longer give her. There is a distinction and chest flipping is definitely not allowed. I'll cheat with my body, but not my heart. Love is for women, love is for her.

Pale blue eyes penetrating, he speaks and I watch that sensuous mouth. Watch it and don't listen. Watch those pink lips, lips that could be a woman's, move on that masculine face. Finally comprehend what he said, "Ianto, are you doing this because you think you have to?"

Have to. Yes. I had to, have to. Had to do it because she won't live without Torchwood technology. Have to do it because my body can't live without his touch. I've given up thinking it's only for her.

"This is my choice Jack," I say and it's true. I've chosen this life with two partners, one half-dead and one irresistibly alive. The other option is neither.

Jack nods, leans forwards and finally those lips touch me. Soft, sweet and strong. My body coils and springs, pushing towards him, madly tearing, pulling, dragging. Can't help myself, can't stop. Need him with me, need him in me.

But he pushes me away. I'm panting, but he just smiles. "Not so fast tiger," he says. "We've got time. The others have gone for lunch. They take a long one on Friday; they won't be back till two. I've waited all morning. I don't want to waste it all in one, hmmm, spurt." Eyes drag up and down, caressing me with his gaze. And I am a tiger, I want to pounce. But I'm subordinated to his will. Waiting on his command.

"What do you want me to do, sir?" I ask.

He's eyes flicker slightly then look at me, appraising, deciding, planning. "I've got an idea," he says and from the quirk of his lips, I know it's a dirty one. I jiggle on the spot, come on Jack, hurry up. "Are you willing to do what I tell you? You can stop anytime."

"I don't want to stop, sir. I'll do whatever you want." My voice sounds different, rough and deep, the tiger in me is growling.

He growls back. I lean in to kiss him, but again he pushes me away and steps back. "No. I'm not going to touch you yet. Take off your clothes. Take them off, slowly."

A shiver runs through me, anything he says. Strip tease for my male lover. Who am I?

I thumb the buttons on my jacket and he hums. I shrug the jacket off, catching it and resting it over the back of a chair. Look back to see his unblinking eyes, tongue visible between his wet lips. And all I did was take my jacket off; I'm not even showing any extra skin. I flick a button on my shirt and hear him groan. He ignores my hole innuendo and I make him groan by undoing my top button. Maybe less is more. I pause, wait.

"Don't stop," he says and his voice is rough. Yes, less is more.

Another button, slower this time. I look into his eyes as I open it. Looking for a reaction. Waiting. He's eyes flutter. And it's me reacting, sweating like I'm in the sun. I wipe my forehead and undo another button, but I can't suspend the action, need to get this shirt off, because I'm too hot. Is the thermostat broken? Jack's sweating too. I can see beads of liquid glistening on his forehead and suppress an urge to lick them off. Lick them off? Really, what has he done to me? I want to lick some guy's forehead because he groans when I take off my shirt. Rewind a week ago and I wouldn't believe it.

"Keep going," he says. So I open a button on my trousers. Watch him staring at my groin and I look down too. See the reaction to this strange performance. Open the rest of the buttons and set it free. Edge my trousers over my bare arse and down to the floor. Watching him, watching me.

I've done it the wrong way round and struggle a bit to get my trousers off over my shoes. I toe them off awkwardly and spend a moment extracting the shoes from inside my trousers. Fold the trousers and place them with my shirt on the table. Belatedly realise I'm standing in front of my boss, naked with only my socks. I feel the heat in my face. Nothing more ridiculous than a naked man with just his socks. Lisa told me that.

"I'm sorry," I say, "I'm not very good at this." I lean down to take them off.

"Stop," Jack says and I stop without thinking. His voice does that to me. Brooks no argument. "Leave the socks."

"What, sir?"

"Leave them." Really? But really, because he isn't looking at my face, isn't staring at my erection, he is staring at my socks. I'm naked, exposed, and a little bit chilly, and he is staring at my socks. And for some reason that turns me on completely, knowing that with Jack, things are not going to be normal. I can't wait to find out how.

"Kneel down," he says. The floor is concrete and dusty. I kneel anyhow. He throws me something and I catch it. Lube. The shiver that runs through me isn't from cold. I know what this is for. "Use it." he says, "Touch yourself."

Cold gel on my hands, cold hands on my dick. Touching and watching him, watching me. Watching him respond. Touching myself, and he is panting. Like I'm touching him.

"You're not being creative," he says, "There are other things to do with the gel." Like last night. I squeeze it on my finger and reach behind, searching, pushing. I find it, that opening, never touched it before, never thought to. Can I make myself feel like he did? Can I do that? I push, it's a little tender, but my finger slides in easily, I can't wait and push in another. Ahh, that is tight. Push and open my fingers and push a little more. Watching him, watching me.

"Add another he says." I've let go of my cock, the feeling inside is so intense, slowly gently I slide the finger inside, pushing further in. And groan, there it is, there's the spot. Burn and blaze. Pushing it again. Burning lessens, but the fire consumes.

"Jack," I moan. I close my eyes and see how he sees me. On my knees, bending over, a hand on the floor, fingers in my arse. Naked and grunting. Because he told me to. "Jack." I need him to touch me. "Jack."

And then he's there, behind me. Pushing my fingers out of the way, pushing my legs apart and pushing in. Ah, now the moment has finally come, he stops, suspends my pleasure. I can't take it. Can't wait. He's been giving the orders but now I have to. "Go Jack, go. Fuck me now."

And it works because he thrusts deep, filling me, burning me, deeper and deeper, and fuller and fuller. Pushing, panting, starlight flashing, bang, bang, bang. Reaching around. There and there. There and there. There and there. Can it be this good? A firestorm. Bang, bang, bang. Flame burst inside, flame burst outside. Exploding, spilling, finishing. Jack.

Convulsions shudder though my body as he lowers me on to my side, warm behind me. I feel the rough floor against my skin. Although I didn't notice before, there are grazes on my palms and knees. Cold air wafts over the front of my body and my bottom feels... raw. Oh well, at least my feet are warm.

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_Thanks for reading. Please review._


	11. Ch11:Jack POV

**Cocky**

_**A/N:**__ Sorry for the long break between chapters. Sort of lost the momentum in this story. I really have to be in the right mood, so to speak, to write this one. I'm not exactly sure where to go after this chapter so please let me know if you have any suggestions. I have a little idea for a scene on the invisible lift but it might be too early in the relationship and I'm trying for this not to be purely about the sex but more about what is going on inside their heads._

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**Chapter 11 – Jack POV**

I find my new toy in the archives. "So Ianto, you've been trying to attract my attention." I'd like to say I've unsettled him because he can't answer but he seems more excited than anything. Little smile quivering across his lips. Can't let him be too comfortable, got to keep him on his toes. "There's no point denying it, you're about as subtle as a sledgehammer."

"I was just cleaning."

Right loverboy, cleaning. So sweet, so innocent. I think he'll always be innocent, he has that about him. Wide blue eyes look at me, trusting when they shouldn't. Young soul, if you believe that reincarnation stuff. Simple soul, simple pleasures please. But there is something darker under that. Canary Warf. Innocence without innocence. Ianto, will I ever figure you out?

I have a question to ask, even though I think I know the answer now. Can't be responsible for stealing that sweetness. "Ianto, are you doing this because you think you have to?"

He takes his time answering, shocked by the question or thinking up a lie. "This is my choice Jack," he says and it feels true, he's mine for free.

So I take my kiss, and release the beast. Clawing, pushing, biting, wild thing without restraint. Perhaps not so innocent. "Not so fast tiger," I say, telling him we have time. He stops, panting and twitching. And he is innocent, because he's an tiger kitten, responding to the alpha male. All id and no ego. Driven by instinct and the pleasure principle. Only subdued by my will because I'm the ego to his id.

"What do you want me to do, sir?" he asks. Calling me sir, it must be wrong. Listening to me, obeying me, it can't be right, even though it feels so good. Freud be dammed because I've got an idea and it won't be emotionally healthy.

But it's going to be fun.

"Are you willing to do what I tell you? You can stop anytime."

"I don't want to stop, sir. I'll do whatever you want." Little tiger cub almost growls at me. Bad kitty. He leans in, but I push him back.

"No. I'm not going to touch you yet. Take off your clothes. Take them off, slowly." Want to watch what the boy can do. I've been watching him all day. Now I want to see him do it right. This won't finish alone in a cubicle.

Buttons, one, two, three. Jacket on the back of the chair, nice and neat Ianto. Curved arse and slender hips, delicious. He pops a button on his shirt and then, stops. "Don't stop," thought in my head drawn out. Don't stop Ianto. One by one, each button opens because I've told him to open it. Each inch of skin is mine because he will give it to me.

The shirt comes off quickly and his body is glistening underneath. I remember hair from last night, but now I realise that it is really just the triangle from chest to trail pointing the way. He's shoulders and back are smooth. Pale and pure. I imagine my teeth marking that skin. Making it mine.

The possessiveness shocks me out of my reverie and I notice him folding his shirt. Folding his shirt? He folds his shirt during a strip tease. How cute. But still kinda sexy. "Keep going," I say and he moves his hand to his trousers.

Buttons, nice, no underwear, naughty. Perhaps not so sweet, oh he's trapped his shoes in his trousers. That's sweet. And leaning down, to fetch his pants. Naked Ianto bending down, saucy. And now he's folding them, sweet. But wait, he's still wearing his socks.

Those socks, titillating before, pornographic now. Red socks, white skin. A blush spreads complimenting his footwear, he wants to take them off, but that's not going to happen, "Stop", I say. He has no idea, the socks have to stay. That darling boy, each morning, putting on his plain black suit, makes a choice, a choice not to keep it all in, makes a break for individuality, a break for sensuality, hidden under shoes and trousers, screaming sex.

But the show won't go on unless I direct the performance. I want to see what a man who chooses red socks can do, see what happened in that cubicle when I wasn't there. "Kneel down," watching him bend to my will, perfectly curved, cock quivering. Throw him the lube, command him to start. See him expand under his touch, see what I'm doing to him without lifting a finger, see my power, squeezing him tight. But I need to see more, need to see he's learnt his lessons. See the pupil perform.

"You're not being creative," I chide, "There are other things to do with the gel." And he shows me, preparing himself for me. Face showing everything, each touch, each thrust, each twist. "Add another", I say and I feel it inside, his fingers might be pushing in him, but they thrust in me, scissoring, stretching, scorching.

And he moans my name again and again, calling me to him and watching is not enough, need to feel him, need to become part of the picture.

Touch his skin, hot and wet. Watch his skin, rippling over the bones of his arching spine. Feel his skin, pushing against me. Smell his skin, burning for me. Hear him beg because skin isn't enough. Something deeper, surer, truer. So I become his skin, open him, enter him, capture him. Tame the beast in him, release the beast in me. Flying and free.

Something happens in that moment, that moment drifting between worlds. When I am him and he is me and it's not just pleasure, I'm in exactly the right place, I'm home.

And then we wake shattered and cold, as heat retreats and reality returns, and he is just a boy lying naked on a concrete floor wearing red socks.

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_**A/N:**__ Something has gone wrong with my traffic counter so if you read this and like it please review so I know... I'm not too proud to beg – a bit like Ianto... ;-)_


	12. Ch12: Ianto and Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 12**

_**Authors Note: **__Just a short one. If I can just keep up the momentum..._

**

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Ianto POV**

We shower after the sex in the archives. I'd rather do it alone, but he pulls me into the cubicle with him, warm wet bodies together. Can't wash it off with his arms around me, can't pretend that I don't want him, did it only for her, just sex, not his tongue in my mouth, his hands on my back, his leg wrapped around me pulling me close, warm and wet.

He smiles at my reaction, wolfish, "Again Ianto? Don't know if I can keep up with you." But he's teasing because I feel his reaction too, hard and blunt against my thigh. His hand reaches low and touches. And I jump. That spot, that bit of me I never thought too much about, pain. Not pleasure pain, pain pain.

And he moves his hand away and just looks at me, seeing me for the fraud I am, too inexperienced, too weak, if I can't take him, I can't keep him, and then everything is lost.

So I put his hand back there. Push his fingers into me. Head in his chest so he can't see me wince. This is what I wanted. No pleasure, just duty. Fuck me till I bleed.

"No Ianto." he says and pulls his hand away. Lifts my chin and looks at me, again. I see the disgust in his eyes and I know I've ruined it. So I walk out from the wet and the warmth. Dry my sins and go back to work.

**

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Jack POV**

We shower after sex in the archives. Hold his hand, pull him close, naked in the hot rain. Kiss his sweet face, taste lost from the water that flows over our lips, texture lost in the warm waves. Luscious. Hard bodies soft in the water, he clings to me and I cling to him. Mine. And he wants me, I feel it, firm and sure. "Again Ianto?" I tease, "Don't know if I can keep up with you."

I'm old but still able, flesh still beats to the sound of a young man's drum, and I want to be inside him, all day long. But life isn't like that, too much of a good thing, because when I touch him he pulls away, pain on his face. I've worn out my new toy. Look at his face, look at what he's given me, does he know I'd be happy just to hold? Besides, there are other things we could do.

But toy boy is determined, pushes my fingers back, pushes them in, forces me to hurt him like that's all that matters. "No." I say and lift his chin, look at him again, what am I seeing, why does he want me to cause him pain, why must I hurt everyone, can't we just be?

If I don't take him, he doesn't want me. I'm old and hollow and good for just one thing. He turns from me and I'm alone again, naked in the hot rain.

_

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Your reviews are like chocolate. And I love chocolate..._


	13. Ch13: Ianto and Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 13**

_**Authors Note:**__ Thanks for all the reviews on the previous chapter. Sorry the boys don't get busy in this chapter – with Ianto's sore bum and all ;-) Plus I thought it might be time for a moment of reflection and to rest their tired, tired bodies..._

_

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_**Ianto POV**

I'm home. Well what passes for home at the moment, storage shed with my cyber girlfriend. Until I can move her into her cosy home in the Torchwood basement. I picked out the room. No one goes there. I worked out how to get her in, where to get her in, how to keep her there.

If I can keep Jack...

Distracted.

But that is lost. After the shower. Can't keep my male lover to save my cyber girlfriend.

The light reflects off her metal skin. Skin shouldn't reflect, it should draw in the light and radiate heat. It shouldn't.. Buzz.

Nothing is normal, and it's beginning to wear, sand grating in my eyeballs. I just want to lie down and be held, rocking into oblivion.

But I got that today, for a single moment, his arm wrapped around me on the hard cold floor, drifting. I wanted his warmth to absorb me and to, just stay. There. Skin warm and rough and smooth and so real it hurts.

But nothing is normal.

Sex on a concrete floor isn't safety. Sex with your boss isn't safety. Sex with a man isn't safety.

My head is filled with so many excuses that I don't know what's real anymore. It's not cheating if it's a man. It's for her that I'm doing it. A man can't fake an orgasm so I have to come, have to like it. It's just sex. It's not holding and wanting and connecting. But I don't get that anymore.

I have a cyber girlfriend.

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**Jack POV**

I know where I stand now. It's all I'm good for, a fuck on the floor. I thought... But thoughts like that don't help. Should know that by now.

I'm not so good at reading people, got it wrong so many times. Stare in their faces and just see aliens. Everything is alien because I don't belong here. Don't belong anywhere really, but these aren't my people, and even after a hundred or so years they still don't make sense.

But when he looked at me I thought... What did you think Jack? Thought you meant something, something more than an exciting job and an exotic screw. But his eyes. It's always the eyes that get me in trouble.

Power trip of his need, too bad it centred on his dick. If I was ugly, I'd know what they really thought. No. If I was ugly, I'd always been alone. I've got my body and I've got Torchwood. Better than nothing.

Self pity will get me nowhere so I climb down to my bunker and... I'm home.

I mean this _is_ home but it feels more like home. I can see white walls for the first time in, well, a long time. It smells fresh and clean, not dank and musty. And I remember. This afternoon. Had to go out because there was a Weevil in a shopping centre. Ianto handed me my keys and gun, helped me into my coat. When I got back the hub was still light, even though it was well past home time. On my desk, pizza and a clean shirt; beside my desk, Ianto. He took my coat and poured me a scotch. And waited. Till it was drunk. Till my heart stopped beating and my fingers stopped twitching. Then he shut down the hub and left.

Nice to be cared for and it felt more than the job, more than sex. "Good night," he said, "I hope you sleep well." And it wasn't just a pleasantry, he looked at me, saw me.

Through bluster and innuendo, he sees me.

But these thoughts are worse than self pity and should be long since buried. I've learnt better, in this long life. Cause all things must end and it's better that it never starts. Because the ending is worse than dying, and I'm the one man who can say with certainty that dying is really bad.

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_Please review._


	14. Ch14: Ianto POV and Jack POV

**Cocky**

_**Authors Note:**__ Thanks for the reviews. This is a transition chapter so there are lots of shifts in views and it is in a slightly different format. Hope you like the ride._

**Chapter 14**

**

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Ianto POV**

I did it. Got her in. Inserted her back into the fold of the magnificent Torchwood, cold and alone in the basement. Convenient alien menace, days of running and catching and shooting, while I stood guard at the base. Well not so much guard as door man. For the great and glorious Lisa Hallett. Enter stage right, bleeding from her metal bikini.

So I have to catch Jack again. Make him need me. Cause he can't let me go now.

But what can I do?

I'm just the menial, with the broken body. No genius technician, no dashing doctor, no warrior goddess.

I suppose I should go clean out the fridge.

**

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Jack POV**

I need him. Don't know why. But it's been a week and I can't imagine him not there. We haven't slept together, not since the showers, not that you can call any of that sleeping. Fucking. That's all it was. We haven't talked either. Well nothing significant, pleasantries, questions and answers, y_es sir_, _where do you want me to file this report, how would you like your coffee_. And even that's sort of faded, because he just seems to know, a week and I don't need to ask. I want coffee and it's there, strong, black and hot, just how I like it. My desk is clean, I'm well fed, the hub is, for a change, running smoothly, well as smooth as Torchwood gets, no one tripping over their toes, things are getting done.

I have to keep reminding myself that it's him, because he's sort of fading into the background. I mean I still want him. He still has that... bottom. But it's easier you know. Had me in a spin and it's taken a while to get my balance. First crazy and then calm. Mystery man in a black suit.

**

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Ianto POV**

I've discovered something. Being invisible is better. He doesn't watch me like he did at the start. I can come and go as needed and I'm always needed. By her, by him, by them. All of them needing me and I can just do it. It has a sort of calming monotony to it, soothing my severed psyche.

All that screwing around for nothing. Took my love and shoved it up Jack's arse. For nothing.

Betrayed her. Used him. And left him with no explanation. He did want me, wants me. Sometimes I see him looking, hands on hips. But he never takes it further. I was stupid. It wasn't like he wouldn't try something different. I was just determined hate myself, blame myself. And I'm not wrong, I need hating and blaming, but not because I couldn't perform. I should hate myself because I did perform, am performing. Playing the villain in my own sick drama.

Every day she needs me more and every day he trusts me more, slice him with a thousand cuts, so small he'll never notice, until he bleeds to death.

But I'm still betraying her, because it's not her I think of, late at night, on a cot, in the basement, the sound of ventilators humming in my ear, my body curled in a ball, my hand curled into a fist. It's him up there, in his bunker, naked and ready. It because of him I have to stifle my groans. Simple walk and it could be his hand on my dick, his breath in my ear.

I feel like screaming.

**

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Jack POV**

Ianto bought fruit today, bananas and strawberries.

"I'm worried about you not getting enough vitamins," he says, "All you eat is take-away."

"Thanks Ianto, good for time travel too, bananas and strawberries, good for replacing electrolytes." We ate a lot on the Tardis, took me fifty years before I could eat them again.

"I didn't know that." he says, like it's common knowledge. "Have you travelled in time?" The question surprises me, because the others think I'm making it up, big stories from a big mouth.

"We all travel in time Ianto. Birth to death."

"That's not what I meant." he says.

"I know something else we can do with bananas and strawberries," I say, "Do you have some chocolate sauce?" And oh how cute he is when he blushes.

**

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Ianto POV**

So I'm not sure exactly how this happened, back in his bunker again, me naked and him dipping strawberries into the chocolate sauce in my navel.

I've got no excuses now.

_**

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Author note:**__ As usual please review because it keeps me writing – and know you all want to know more about the bananas and strawberries._


	15. Ch15: Jack and Ianto POVs

**Cocky**

_**Author note:**__ Sorry loyal followers for taking so long to get back into this fiction. I've taken a month or so off writing while I've been house hunting. But now I'm no longer homeless I'm back to the dirty desires of Jack and Ianto..._

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**Chapter 15**

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**Jack POV**

Sex is great. I mean I understand the value of a good conversation and chasing an alien certainly gets the blood pumping. But sex, there really is no substitute. Sex with Ianto. Well that's something worth waiting for.

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**Ianto POV**

It was just an innuendo. Jack's one billionth innuendo. Didn't mean I had to respond.

But I did and now I'm lying here on my back while Jack draws god knows what in chocolate sauce on my stomach with the tip of a strawberry. And it couldn't feel more forced. Like there should be rose petals scattered around me, candles burning and perhaps even the soft swoons of Glenn Miller playing in the background. Not something two grown men do in a hole in the ground, on a camp bed and a concrete floor. A sick parody of romance.

That doesn't stop my cock swelling and grazing his chin as he leans down to lick the chocolate off my belly.

What a strange power he has, making me do things I'd never imagine doing. With him, I'm not me. Some other Ianto waltzing in Jack's starlight to the tune of his touch.

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**Jack POV**

There is something about the combined taste of sweet chocolate and salty skin. It's been a while since I've taken the time to be creative about sex, although this is still a bit plebeian, but we make do with the materials at hand. And there is nothing in the galaxy quite like chocolate, and apparently, Ianto's skin. I'm not imagining it, just because he's my latest, but he tastes kind of... _special_. Heart goes pumpity pump, breath starts to... _flutter_.

There is a bit of freedom now, cause I feel like we've set the bounds - he works for me - but we can have sex, simple. And convenient.

Because if I'm honest, which I rarely am, but I suppose I can be to myself - it's been a long time since I've had much sex at all. Ianto might even be the first this year. I mean I talk about it, got to keep the reputation up, and after all these years the innuendos and stories sort of slip from my tongue without thinking. Like the flirtation. But I've learnt a few tricks, to allow flirtation without follow through, leave them begging without anyone actually asking - for more than I'm willing to give. I don't know when I started doing this, not like Little Jack isn't up for it, but it's a hell of a lot simpler to go home to an athletic hand and a good book, with pictures - and diagrams...

Ianto will be good for me. Easy enough to separate heart and body with a few strawberries and chocolate handy. Have my fun and still have life ticker along on its easy path. I've got an appointment with a doctor and I can't be distracted.

Back to this skin cause it's kind of moorish. He's panting and he's hard, but he looks a little uncomfortable, perhaps he likes it fast and rough, maybe he's hungry. I slide a piece of banana over the sticky mess I've left on his stomach and hold it to his mouth. He opens up and I lower it in. The piece is a little big and I see his throat work to get it down. Associations with banana plantations and sonic screwdrivers and men in leather jackets who own blue boxes drift to the back of my mind, and Ianto and his gulping gullet slip to the forefront. That day in the archives, when he sunk to his knees. The work that mouth did...

The way he worshiped me, cared for me, _cares _for me, every day, there for me. And inside it bursts, the want, the need, to absorb into his skin, become part of him, worship h_im_, care for_ him_. I caress his cheek and look at his sweet face, trying to decide what my boy might need.

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**Ianto POV**

I eat the chocolate coated banana clasped in his hand. Swallow this physical innuendo, because he wants me to. I'll do whatever he wants. Dream his dream until I forget who I am, forget the girl in the basement, crying her metal tears.

Sticky fingers trace down my chin, across my chest, pluck my nipples, stroke my stomach, lower, lower, touch me there. Touch my forgetfulness. Touch with finger, touch with tongue. Taste me, tease me, tender and true.

And the pressure builds as he takes me in, wet warmth, sucking stretch, pulsing, panting. Swallows me deep, talented tongue. Draws me beyond all others, takes me where only the blessed go, along the path to nowhere, where no one cries and no one dies, and skin is only skin and eyes can only see and lungs breathe in and out. In. And. Out. Swirling and sinking and taking me, there. There. There, beyond the world of harsh light and silver skin. There, beyond the drip, drip, drip of dank, dark, dungeons. There, beyond stitched lips and still faces. He takes me there. I'm not worthy, but still - he takes me there.

* * *

**Jack POV**

Someone else's pleasure shouldn't feel this good. Each gasp could be my own. His groans rumble in my throat. Rumble and bring him closer. So responsive to my touch as I work my mouth and tongue and hand and fingers. Pull and suck and _move_. So good to feel his pleasure, so good to see his eyes roll back and the tension slip from his shoulders. Why have I been so reluctant, because this is something I can get right, it's here that I feel my power.

Fractures might rip through my team, humans and aliens might still die, the blue box might not come, but at this, I'm good. At this, I'm right.

Suction at the right time, push my head at the right angle, squeeze with just the right pressure. Yes, I'm good at this.

I reach down to double my pleasure. Reach down to feel it with him. One hand on him, one hand on me, while my mouth moves and sucks and twists and tastes. I want to suspend the moment forever, but I feel him bulge and grow and fill me, feed me. Take me with him.

Sticky and sweaty I cuddle into his side and kiss the chocolate off the corner of his mouth.

Sex is great.

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_Please review – 15 reviews to reach my first centenary._


	16. Ch16: Jack and Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 16**

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Jack POV**

It's a strange thing, but curled in a sticky mess around Ianto, I sleep, and dream. Dream what I always dream, when I sleep. Dream of the Doctor.

It starts with the sound of the Tardis, that strange whirling whoop that twists around my heart and has me running. Across Roald Dahl Plass to my Tardis, heart of gold. The door is open and framed within in it, The Doctor. Rose stands beside him, laughing and beckoning me, but the Doctor is looking down. I follow his eyes and see a body, lying half-wedged under the Tardis, naked, bleeding, and broken.

"Doctor," I call and he looks up, looks at me. In the way of dreams, I'm standing in front of him. The body between us, but I'm only looking at the Doctor, like a school boy in the principal's office, waiting for my judgement.

"It's time for you to die Jack," he says, "It's time for everyone to die."

And now I really look at the body, see it. A man, twisted and mangled, a leg, an arm and part of the chest crushed under the Tardis. The chest cavity ripped open and I see, past dark hair matted in blood and torn white flesh, the heart and part of the lungs. Then the heart quivers like it's still trying to beat. I look at the face. Ianto. Living blue eyes stare at me, red lips plead, but I can't hear the words. His mouth bubbles with blood and as lips still, pupils fix in a glassy stare.

"It's time Jack." the doctor says, "Everybody dies, Jack, everybody dies."

I hear that whirling whoop and the Doctor, Rose and the Tardis are gone. Only a blood smear remains where Ianto's body lay. I'm alone in the empty Plass. I'm naked and covered in sticky old blood. But I'm not dead.

Hearts familiar thump brings me back to consciousness. I slow my breath and look down at our bodies, not covered in blood, just sticky with chocolate and cum. I look at Ianto's face, soft and young in sleep, a hushed snore escaping from his open mouth. Thank you Doctor for reminding me, I can't die, but he can. Everyone dies and desire is dangerous. And I know how the story goes, I'm always the one to end up alone, naked, and covered in blood.

**

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Ianto POV**

For the first time since that day I sleep properly, wake without quickened breath and hammering heart. Wake, to Jack's cold blue eyes, staring at me, his handsome face pulled into hard lines. I've seen him look that way when Owen gets uppity, or some innocent gets killed. I've known him such a short time, but I know that look is Jack distancing himself from a situation he can't control.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Just after one," he says and the look is gone, leaving me wondering if I imagined it.

"Yuck, I'm disgusting. Can't believe I feel asleep like this." I say pulling myself up and out of the bed, "I'm going to have a shower, want to join me?"

"No, you go ahead, I'll clean up here first." he says pointing to the sticky mess of squashed bananas, strawberries and chocolate on the floor and bed.

"I can help you."

"No, that's ok. You get home, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow."

Oh, so that's what rejection feels like, come to my bed but don't sleep in it. I've crossed a line I never even intended to cross. I gather my things and scurry up the ladder. For a moment, I forgot that this isn't me, forgot the woman waiting in the wings. I look back down at Jack. He isn't cleaning, just sitting on the edge of the bunk, staring at the wall.

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_Author note: I know, I know, a dream sequence, how tacky, but I go the way the muses blow._


	17. Ch17: Jack POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 17**

_Sorry it's been so long. This chapter and the following chapter that I will post tomorrow have been stewing away for a long time. Despite its tendency towards smut I've grown rather fond of this fic and I don't want to muck it up. So please bear with me and I promise to add a bit to the story, even if only very occasionally._

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**Jack POV**

Bloody boy has me in a spin, like a teenager, up one minute down the next. And it has been a very long time since I was a teenager. I'm not going to sleep so after a shower I climb out of my bunker and start stalking around the hub. The never changing hub. Night and day, dank lights and dripping water.

I end up where I always end up. The hand bubbling quietly in the jar looks smaller than it should, finer bones, softer skin. Regeneration. I've been searching for him for over a century and I don't even know what he looks like. I could pass him in the street and never know. Or I could find him before he knew me. Right man, wrong time. The century has turned twice, it shouldn't be long now; but at the moment I feel like I can't wait another minute.

It's all too much and I can't stay here a moment longer trapped under the ground. I need to get as far away as possible, as close to the stars as I can. The invisible lift takes me to the Plass. It's empty at this time of night, the air is icy but still holds a tang of salt. I know this office building just on the other side of the docks that I can access easily. Highest in the area and has a nicely precarious vantage point. I feel my mood lift as I walk and I get on to the roof without even encountering a security guard.

The air is even colder up here and even though the breeze is light the wind chill factor drops it a few more points, but my coat keeps me warm. The city lights glitter in the darkness like a pool reflecting the night sky.

I love looking down on the city. I wasn't born here but I've lived here longer than anyone else so I think that makes me a local. Up here I might as well rule Cardiff. All my subjects dotted below, tucked in bed on a weeknight like good little children. The wind blows against my face and the push of it spins in my ears, that tingle of vertigo, that trickle of fear. I could fall, die. Feels like I could die and it would be forever, but I know I won't. If I fall I'll live, like no one else could. The brilliant rush of invisibility and mortality are like twin jewels in the starlit sky. If he came tonight, I don't know which I'd choose.

Why was Ianto in my dream of the Doctor? Why not Suzie or Tosh or Owen? Perhaps he is the symbol of innocence lost, my innocence that was lost, crushed under the weight of the Tardis. But I was no innocent when I met the Doctor and Ianto is no innocent now. He was at Canary Warf, he saw warm flesh turn to cold metal.

Ianto might have seen the Doctor, might have seen Rose, seen her warm flesh turn cold. I've wanted to ask him, but I've no right and part of me doesn't want to know for sure. One hundred years on and I still remember her warmth as we danced to Moonlight Serenade during the London Blitz. I remember that fire in her that should never have gone out. I've watched her grow up, from a distance, saw that ember flickering inside her that didn't burst into flame until she met the Doctor. I was the same, spent my life waiting for him even though I didn't know what I was waiting for. And I wait for him still.

For the last year I've been visiting her estate often, hoping to slip back into her timeline, his timeline, like I'd never been gone, like I haven't been dead a hundred years. But that hope left when I read her name on the list of the dead. The Doctor couldn't protect her, like he couldn't protect me. I don't know for sure, there was no body, but that means nothing. Her brain might rest inside a metal body, swirling in the void between worlds, cold and perfect forever.

Perhaps that's why I'm drawn to Ianto, he survived what my Rose couldn't. You've got to be careful when you're near the Doctor. Ianto and me, we're the survivors of the oncoming storm, that earnest boy links me to a man he never knew. So I take the boy as a substitute for the man and woman I could never have, take him and fuck him and make him mine. Break him open, crush all virtue and watch him die. And I will continue to use him, play my games and screw him into the ground until his eyes turn glassy with lost innocence. That's what my dream has told me.

When I leave my belvedere, the sky is flushed with my shame.

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_Please review and I'll post the next chapter. Sorry, sorry, shameless blackmail…_


	18. Ch18: Ianto POV

**Cocky**

**Chapter 18**

_Bit of mention of sex with women, which I was once told in a review was disgusting and inappropriate when this is supposed to be slash, which I think is rather odd and kind of antifeminist, but here is a warning anyway… I write for the people not their sexuality…_

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**Ianto POV**

It was a dismissal, clear and blunt. I'd provided the service, received my payment, transaction over. But it was so good to just sleep. Sleep without the sound of stomping feet and laser bolts, sleep without the smell of charred flesh, sleep without seeing my co-workers, my mates, their faces twisted in pain and still in death.

How can lying in his arms feel so natural? How can a man who's every action draws him closer to death, feel eternal, like he could hold me forever? But the woman who might only have moments calls. So I shower quickly and rush to see her. She is the one I love, she is the one who when all this is over can hold me, we will shield each other against the darkness in loving arms.

I fool myself that it's the sound of machines, or water, or rats. It's not, it's a human woman crying to herself in the darkness. I explore comfort and contemplate forever, while she rusts in her metal shell and feels the minutes of her life ticking by.

"What's wrong cariad?" I ask. It's so hard to tell, pain hides in her metal shell, tears can't even form in her bionic eyes.

"It hurts, it's bad. I waited, you didn't come. I thought…" she pauses and looks at me with dry brown eyes, "I thought you weren't coming back."

"I'm sorry," I say, but I can't explain. There is no reason. So I do all I can to help her; check drug levels, scan her for internal bleeding, clean flesh, and oil cyber connections. Then I hold her. Hold her hand, kiss her lips, the softest part.

It used to start with the kissing, softly, slowly, until I could feel it, slightly more pressure from her tongue, her small hands, grasping my back. So I would stroke downwards along her sides, along the curve of hip, upwards towards her breast. Her breasts were so soft, I'd squeeze them lightly and flick with my thumb until that hard bud formed. I would roll her nipples in my mouth like boiled sweets, taste her succulent flesh. And then would come the moment when she would guide my hand down to touch that other bud, gently flick it with my fingers, slowly, so slowly, waiting, waiting, for that word. The pressure would build, until I felt I couldn't contain it any longer but still, we would lie entwined suspended. Waiting.

"Now Ianto." she would say and I could enter her sweet moisture, still slowly, but it was liberating. She liked it when I moved against her clit, slow grinding thrusts. And inevitably my waiting, holding myself back, holding myself in would be rewarded; I'd feel her breath pick up, grunts and groans showing I'd won. Soft hands would grip me tight, nails burying into my back and she would pull me towards her. "Hard, hard," she'd say and I'd be free, pumping and thrusting my way towards the finish line. Hear her shout.

"I got a bit carried away there," she'd say like I'd think less of her, like she didn't do that every time.

She'd expect me to hold her afterwards, gently stroking her while cum dried on my dick. She was my first, my only. That's what sex with women is like, I guess; holding yourself back for a moment of freedom. But with Jack, there's no holding back, because he's right there with me leading me on. But there's no comfort, no softness, no time to sleep. I guess that's what sex with men is like.

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_Thanks for reading – please review, particularly if you can give me a clue as to how I should continue…_


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